


Thirty More Sins

by notyouranswer (gorgeouschaos)



Series: Thirty Seconds Sooner [4]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Elektra Natchios Lives, F/M, Sequel to another fic (you probably want to read that one first), tags will be updated as story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:00:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23790472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gorgeouschaos/pseuds/notyouranswer
Summary: Matt and Elektra survived the Hand's attack, the Snap, and living with Frank Castle.Now they just have to deal with Fury, the rest of the Hand, and keeping Peter Parker alive.(And living with Frank Castle. They still have to deal with that.)Sequel to Thirty Seconds Sooner, Thirty Years too Late.
Relationships: Matt Murdock/Elektra Natchios
Series: Thirty Seconds Sooner [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1405645
Comments: 20
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh…  
> I blame the two people who asked about a sequel in the same week. I am weak and have far more time on my hands than I know what to do with at the moment. I was going to write this one with a more concrete plan than Thirty Seconds Sooner, but I think we all need some fix-it AU right now, so here we are.  
> I’ll try to do updates at least every other Tuesday. (Aiming for every Tuesday, but there’s a lot going on right now.)  
> Also, still not sure what the Black Sky’s purpose or powers were in canon, but I’m twisting things for my own nefarious purposes.  
> Here we go!

Matt knew it was all going to go wrong at some point. 

(“It’s okay to take a break,” Danny said. 

“We’ve got it under control,” Luke said. 

“It’s good to take some time for yourself,” Foggy said.

“Just take a vacation with your wife, Matt, it’s fucking _Venice_ , for God’s sake, the worst thing that’s gonna happen is you falling into a canal, stop being paranoid,” Frank said.

“Just go before your wife strangles you for being stupid,” Jessica said.

He was never going to let them live this down.)

“Some vacation,” Matt pants to his wife, running from the-- the _something_ behind them. All he can tell is that it’s large, buzzing, and about to kill them.

“Can’t bring you anywhere.” Elektra neatly dodges a piece of falling rubble and pulls him into an alleyway. “What is this thing, anyway? It looks like something out of a comic book. Some sort of water monster.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Matt braces his back against the stone behind him and focuses. Tuning out the screams is an effort, but he does his best. 

“I’ve got… It’s made up of a lot of buzzing things,” he decides. “Airborne buzzing things.”

“Specific.”

Matt does his best to glare at her. “I think they’re drones or something. They sound like drones. Give me a knife.”

“You’re just going to assume I have one on me? Matthew, I’m insulted.”

“You have at least three on you, give me one.”

She laughs and hands one to him. Even under the circumstances, Matt can’t help but grin at her. 

Several chunks of stone fly overhead.

“Matthew,” Elektra says, her voice tight. “Do whatever you’re going to do sooner rather than later, please.”

Matt takes a deep breath, sends a brief and wordless prayer upwards, and throws the knife. He hears it hit home. Something falls to the ground a few feet away.

“Hmm.” His wife pokes it with her foot. “Not what I was expecting.”

“Is it a drone?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why--”

The sound of stone scraping cut him off.

“I think it might be wise to analyze it later,” Elektra says. “When we’re not about to die.”

Whatever drone-thing is following them sideswipes a roof a hundred feet away.

“Later,” Matt agrees. 

Matt half-listens to the news as Elektra examines the drone. The news is full of speculation about the creature and the identity of the man who stopped it.

“Hundreds, if not thousands, owe their lives to this “Mysterio”,” a news anchor claims in rapid, frantic Italian. “He should be recognized as a hero.”

“I’m skeptical,” Elektra mutters. “Considering someone had to have programmed these drones.”

“Yeah.” Matt hesitates.

Usually, he would never even consider passing on the responsibility of lives; once, Matt would have gone to whatever means necessary to deal with whatever this is by himself. It goes against every instinct he has to pass this on, but he’s on vacation.

Besides, the Avengers? The gods and supersoldiers and self-made weapons who were supposed to protect the world from the things people like Matt couldn’t? 

This was their problem.

(Or it would have been, anyway. Before Thanos.

Now…)

“Should I text Barton?”

“Can’t hurt,” Elektra says. “He’s probably got links to people better-equipped to deal with this.”

Matt swallows some of his pride-- not all of it, he’s Catholic, that’s not possible-- and unlocks his phone. “Let’s never take a vacation again.”

“And here I was looking at rentals in New Zealand.”

Matt ponders that. “New Zealand could be nice. No twitchy ex spec-op guys cleaning their guns on the kitchen table.”

“Or well-intentioned but unnerving billionaires breaking into the apartment to meditate in our bathtub.”

“Or Jessica.”

Elektra sighs. “Sounds like Heaven.”

Barton texts back within five minutes. 

_Told Fury. On way._

Matt frowns at his phone. “Does that mean Fury-- whoever that is-- is on his way, or that Barton is?”

His wife shrugs loosely. “I don’t think that matters. It’s out of our hands, is it not?”

“Right. I guess so.”

“Right.” She twists her fingers in his hair. “So how about we celebrate our anniversary, now that that’s settled?”

Matt smiles. “I think we can arrange that.”

His shirt, minus a few buttons, hits the floor just as the pounding on the door starts.

“Busy,” Elektra calls, her mouth a few inches from Matt’s. “Come back later.”

“Unfortunately, Mrs. Murdock, I’m afraid that isn’t an option.”

Matt goes still, taking mental stock of the weapons within reach. 

Elektra stalks to the door and yanks it open. 

The man standing on the other side smells a lot like Frank, all leather and gun oil and metal.

“Fury, I presume,” Elektra says. 

The man must incline his head, because she follows up with, “Call me Mrs. Murdock again and I’ll rip out your other eye.”

Fury’s heart speeds up for precisely two beats. “Noted. May I come in?”

“I doubt you care if we say no,” Elektra says. “But fine.”

Fury steps inside their hotel room, shutting the door behind himself. “Nothing to say, Mr. Murdock?”

“I think Elektra covered it.”

“You got something against shirts?”

Matt refuses to be embarrassed. “Nope. Just something against assholes.”

There’s an ominous pause before Fury roars with laughter. 

“Not bad, Murdock,” he says, chuckling. “Not bad at all. Now where’s this drone, and where’d it come from?”

Fury pokes at the droid with a small whirring device while Matt puts on a shirt. 

“I’ll need to get this to the labs,” Fury concludes. He stows the device in his coat pocket, picks up the drone, and gets to his feet. “Coming?”

Elektra brushes the back of Matt’s hand with her fingers. It’s her way of telling him it’s his choice.

Matt says, “No. Thanks, but we’re on vacation.”

“Wouldn’t have taken you for a coward, Murdock. Not after everything you’ve done. Everyone you’ve killed.”

Elektra’s hand tightens over Matt’s. Her wedding ring is cool against his skin. 

It’s a warning. Matt takes it and pushes the devil down. 

“We’re on vacation,” Matt says. “And I’ve seen what happens when humans try to play on the Avengers’ level.”

(Natasha had smelled like vanilla and pomegranates and her laugh had been brief but bright. Tony Stark’s heart had beat like a drum, loud and steady and concealing so much uncertainty.) 

“We’re not interested,” Elektra clarifies. “Now go away.”

“‘Humans’?” Fury asks. He sounds amused. “That doesn’t describe either of you anymore. If it ever did. When was the last time you looked in the mirror, Murdock?”

“I was nine the last time I looked at anything, I believe.”

Matt isn’t great with minuscule motions, but he’d be willing to bet a lot of money that the other man just winced.

“Tell Barton when you change your mind,” Fury says. He sweeps out in a whirl of leather trench coat. 

“He winced, right?’ Matt confirms after the door closes.

“Yes. Noticeably. Now… What were we doing, before we were so rudely interrupted?”

Matt breaks the kiss long enough to say, “Don’t ruin this shirt, babe.”

The shirt gets ruined. It’s worth it. 

“What did he mean?” Matt asks, rubbing his hand up and down Elektra’s back idly. “When he asked me if I’d looked in a mirror?”

“How should I know what he meant?” Her casual tone is belied by the tension he can feel in her spine. He kisses the top of her head.

“Sweetie?”

“Mmm?”

“You remember I can tell when you lie, right?”

She sighs into his shoulder. “Yes. It’s rather inconvenient.”

He waits.

“It’s possible that he was referring to the fact that neither of us appear to have aged since we left New York the first time.”

Matt’s hand stills on Elektra’s back. “What?”

She shrugs. He can tell she’s preparing to pull away, so he lets her go. He’s not in the mood for closeness anymore anyway.

“It’s not obvious. Not really. I didn’t notice until I came back. Five years and-- to be trite-- you hadn’t aged a day.”

“And you didn’t tell me.”

“No. Because I didn’t want to believe it.”

Matt’s anger fades as quickly as it arrived

She continues, “I just wanted to have this. To have you, and your city-- our city-- without having to think about being the Black Sky. I thought maybe I was mistaken. And I didn’t want to worry you. So no, Matthew, I didn’t tell you.”

Matt isn’t sure what to say, but he starts to respond anyway. “You don’t--”

Thankfully, his phone rings before he can say something too stupid. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Clint,” a male voice says cheerfully. “I just found out Fury’s sucking the Spider-Kid into this mess, thought you should know. Considering the kid’s like eight.”

Matt, narrowly resisting the urge to break something, turns on speaker phone.  
  


Matt dials the number Clint gives him. 

“Change your mind?” Fury asks.

“Leave the kid alone. He deserves more than this life.”

“Life ain’t about what we deserve, Murdock. You of all people should know that.”

“He’s just a child.”

“So take his place.”

Matt grinds his teeth together. “I. Am. On. Vacation.”

“If you want the kid out, someone else has to take his spot. Besides, I’ve got something you need.”

Matt, mentally cursing himself, takes the bait. “What?”

“I know where the remaining fingers of the Hand are.”

Matt goes perfectly still. Beside him, so does Elektra. “If you’re lying--”

“You’ll kill me horribly, yeah, yeah. Tell it to some motherfucker stupid enough to lie to a walking lie detector. We got a deal?”

Matt looks at his wife. “I agree to help with whatever this is, you leave the kid out of it and tell me where the Hand is?”

“That’s the deal.”

Once, Matt would have thought twice.

He thinks of Tony Stark’s casual, guilt-laden brilliance and the edge the billionaire had given them over Fisk. He thinks of himself and Elektra at sixteen, already broken and reassembled wrong, already soldiers in a war they had no choice in starting.

“Then yes. We’re in.”

“Great. See you in Prague in… mmm, five hours?”

“Six,” Matt says, and he hangs up on the director of SHIELD with petty satisfaction. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit short, but the next chapter should make up for it.  
> And yes, I'm just squeezing in as much Matt) Elektra fluff as I can at this point.  
> Thank you so much to everyone who's commented! :)

“It’s a shame we’re not here under different circumstances,” Elektra comments. Her hand is strong and warm in Matt’s as they head towards the address Fury gave them. “Prague really is a wonderful city.”

“Mm-hmm.” Matt is too busy scanning for threats to appreciate the city, but it does sound-- and smell-- like a nice place. “Could say the same about most of the places we’ve been. Rome, Madrid, Rio…”

“One day, we’re going to take a vacation and not have to save the world.” There’s no censure in her voice, but Matt winces nonetheless. 

“Sorry.”

“If you hadn’t said yes, you wouldn’t be the man I married,” she says. “But still. One day.”

“One day.”

She squeezes his hand as she stops walking. “We’re here, by the way. Looks like a hotel.”

“Why didn’t Fury tell…” Matt trails off. “Because he can, I suppose. Do we have a room number or anything?”

She pulls his phone from his jacket pocket. He hears her thumbing through it. “Yes, surprisingly. 305. We’re supposed to ask for Peter Parker?”

“Great.” He straightens his jacket as they step into the hotel. “What do you think Fury wants us to do, anyway?”

From the slide of her hair over her shoulders, Matt guesses Elektra shrugged. “No idea. Confront whoever’s behind the drone thing? Kill drones? It doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“No. No, it doesn’t.” Matt would do nearly anything to eliminate the rest of the Hand. And so, he knows, would his wife. 

He keeps hold of his wife’s hand as they cross the lobby, letting her steer him. They decided on the hurriedly chartered flight here that Matt would wear his glasses and use his cane on the grounds that it was better to look harmless until they were sure what Fury wanted from them.

It feels strange, wearing his disguise again. In New York he doesn’t bother, since he mostly sleeps during the day, and when he’s awake, he’s usually wearing the mask. Pretending to have his sight allows him to avoid ableism and suspicion at the same time. 

Slipping back into the disguise he used for so long comes naturally, though. It’s just another kind of mask. 

“I hate going in blind like this,” Matt mutters once they’re alone in the elevator. “Pun not intended.”

“As do I. But we hardly have a choice if we want to carry out this deal.” She spits out ‘deal’ like it tastes bitter on her tongue. 

“Indeed.” The elevator doors slide open. 

Elektra leads him to 305 and knocks. The door opens immediately. 

“Oh, thank goodness,” the man inside says. “When the school said they’d send more chaperones, I never thought that it would actually happen. Thank you so much for coming this far. Who are you with?”

“Peter Parker,” Matt says. “We’re, uh, family friends.”

“I wasn’t aware-- well, we’re thrilled to have you, anyway. I’m Roger, Roger Harrington.”

“I’m Elektra,” Elektra says. Matt takes note that they’re using their real names. “This is my husband, Matthew.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Harrington shakes Elektra’s hand and turns to Matt.

“Please, call me Matt.” Matt waits patiently for Harrington to realize that he can’t see his extended hand. The awkward cough tells him the realization has hit. 

“I’ll just bring you to Peter’s room. He’s been-- distant, since Venice. I’m sure you’ll cheer him up.”

Peter Parker opens the door quickly enough he must have been waiting. 

“Hi, Mr. Harrington,” Peter says. He’s talking at the speed of light. Obscurely, it makes Matt think of Tony Stark. “What’s up? Ned’s swimming, so--”

“Your, ah, family friends are here.” Harrington gestures to Matt and Elektra. Peter’s heartbeat speeds up.

“Right,” Peter says. “Oh, wow. It’s been forever. How have you guys been?”

His voice is too frantic, but otherwise, Matt has to give the kid credit for rolling with the lie.

“Oh, we’ve been well enough,” Elektra says. “Matthew and I were in the area, and when your Uncle Fury asked us to come check on you, well, how could we say no?”

Peter’s heart slows from “hummingbird fast” to “nervous”. “Oh, gotcha. Well, come on in. Thanks, Mr. Harrington,” he adds as he closes the door in the man’s face.

Once inside, he turns on Matt and Elektra angrily. “Can’t you people just leave me alone long enough for me to take a freaking shower? I already told you I don’t want to be in this fight, and Ned says they have really nice body wash, and I already--”

“Look, kid,” Matthew says, cutting him off. “We don’t want to be here, either, but Fury’s, uh, he’s got something we need. We’re sorry to ruin your trip. We just want to help”

Peter slumps, his indignation disappearing. “Sorry. I just--"

“It’s quite alright,” Elektra tells him. “We understand. All we know is Fury sent us here and told us to ask for you.”

Peter sits on the edge of his bed. “Why?”

“No idea,” Matt says. “But, uh… Maybe you could tell us about this ‘Mysterio’?”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

Matt, knowing what he knows about Spider-Man-- and going off what Frank had said about his conversation with Stark-- says, “Tony Stark smelled like engine grease and expensive cologne. Sandalwood and cyprus. And his arc reactor pulsed and buzzed with his heartbeat.”

Peter stops fidgeting. 

“He did it for you,” Matt says, unable to stop himself and needing Peter to know. “He did it for you. And no matter what anyone says, I know he wouldn’t have regretted it.”

There is a long pause. Peter swipes his nose on his arm.

“Also,” Matt adds, “Fury’s an asshole.”

Peter gives a watery laugh and starts talking. “He says he’s from a different earth. And his real name is Glenn Beck.”

Matt nudges Elektra. She pulls out her phone and-- Matt hopes, anyway, since that’s what he meant to convey with his nudge-- texts Danny to ask for information on anyone named Glenn Beck who matches Mysterio’s description. 

Danny might have a tendency to break computers by looking at them, but money buys information. 

They listen to Peter’s story. When he stops talking, Matt asks, “Did you know that the “elemental” was made of drones?”

“That’s not possible,” Peter says. “It-- how could drones do that? Destroy bridges, spray water? You-- are you sure?”

“Considering I threw a knife and hit one, pretty sure.”

“You can throw knives? Whoa.”

“It’s not that hard,” Elektra says dismissively. “Just takes practice. And yes, we’ll teach you, but let’s finish up with the debriefing first.”

“Awesome.” Peter clears his throat. “Uh, no, I didn’t know they were drones, but… oh no, Mysterio must not know, either.”

“Or,” Matt points out, “he’s the one behind it.”

Elektra stomps on his foot. 

“Oh,” Peter says, his voice small. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

Matt now feels he rather deserved to get his foot stomped on.

They leave Peter’s hotel room with the information that the next “elemental” will be fire. Elektra and Matt allow Roger Harrington to arrange for their hotel room before leaving to find a convenient alleyway to change.

When they exit the hotel, they’re greeted with a wave of noise. Matt groans and clutches his head, unable to stop himself.

“Carnivale,” Elektra realizes. “Well, shit.”

She so rarely swore that hearing her do so hit Matt with a wave of adrenaline. “What is it?”

“Hmm. Think Mardi Gras.”

Matt remembers how much damage the “elemental” in Venice had been able to do in a place with relatively few people. “Ah. Well, shit.”

“Quite.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay safe and have a good week!


	3. Personal Update (will delete later)

Hi everyone,  
I just wanted to apologise for being behind on updating. My mental health has not been the best lately and so I haven't had much motivation. Hopefully there will be another chapter soon.  
Take care of yourselves.   
-notyouranswer


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a while since I’ve seen Far From Home, so please excuse any inaccuracies.  
> It’s also been a while since I’ve updated. I’m doing better now. Thank you all very much for your well wishes.   
> This chapter’s quite short, but I wanted to update and get some momentum back. So here we are.

They’re perched on a rooftop near the center of the city when Matt hears Peter. The kid’s heartbeat is distinctive in its hummingbird-like tempo.

“Something’s wrong,” Matt tells Elektra. 

“Obviously.”

“No, I mean--”

Peter climbs over the edge of the roof.

“Ah,” Elektra mutters, before raising her voice slightly to address Peter. “What’s wrong?”

Matt doesn’t need to hear Peter’s response because he can hear the rise of screaming from several blocks away. 

“Let’s go,” he says, cutting off Peter’s breathless explanation.

“Okay.” Peter keeps up with Matt and Elektra while babbling. Matt would be impressed at any other time. At the moment, he’s just-- he doesn’t want to tell the kid to shut up, because God knows adults doing that shit fucked Matt up, but he will admit to being a little annoyed as the screams grow louder and the humming of the drones becomes audible to Matt’s ears.

“--and then I felt some rumbling, and I saw you guys, ‘cause you really stand out, especially you, Double-D, with the horns and all, and--”

Peter falls silent at last as they arrive at the source of the humming. Matt can hear the echoes bouncing off the buildings and something large and circular in the middle.

“Ferris wheel?” he confirms with Elektra. 

“Yes.”

“Oh,” Peter says. “Oh, right. Do you want me to describe stuff, or--”

“No.” It comes out sharper than Matt intended it to, his tone astringent with too many years of assumed helplessness. He feels Peter curl in on himself a little and softens his tone. “Not right now, Peter. But thank you.”

Elektra brushes a hand over his shoulder and says, “Do we have a plan?”

“We’ve never had one before,” Matt points out. 

He’s pretty sure she’s smiling. 

They jump off the building together. 

Matt hears Peter say, rather forlornly, “I was hoping for a plan.”

Fighting drones is unlike any other fight Matt’s ever had. He can’t really punch them, after all. He has to pry their casing off and rip their components apart. Luckily, Elektra keeps her knives sharp, so he has leverage. 

Matt’s just thinking that he’s doing pretty well at this whole fighting drones business when one of them flies into his stomach and knocks the wind out of him. He hears Elektra call his name as he collapses, but he’s too busy trying to breathe to pay attention. 

_ Getting sloppy, Matty, _ Stick whispers in his head. Matt shoves him away.

He senses more than hears one of them stop to hover above him. Its weapons, whatever they are, whir. 

Matt doesn’t bother closing his eyes, doesn’t bother wondering what his last thought will be.

It was always going to be  _ Elektra. _

__ Something whizzes by his head and strikes the drone. It spins away for long enough for Matt to stagger to his feet. 

Peter is standing a few feet away from him, arm outstretched. 

“Thanks,” Matt croaks, chest heaving as he drags in as much air as his body will let him.

Peter nods and backflips upwards, landing on a drone. As it whizzes off, he calls, “You’re welcome, Double-D!”

It must be exhausting, being so cheerful. Matt ignores the twinge in his chest at the use of the nickname Tony Stark had used so glibly. 

Like father, like son, Matt supposes. 

He manages a deep breath and draws another knife. 

There’s still work to be done. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you liked it, and I love feedback! Stay safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Stay safe and have a good week!


End file.
